


Killer Queens.

by orphan_account



Category: Danganronpa
Genre: Despaircest, F/F, Sexual Roleplay, Sister Incest, count down to their birthday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-18 13:54:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16996266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: just interaction between the sisters





	1. Burn her down

**Author's Note:**

> I accidentally deleted this work so guess who is gunna die today !!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sex yeah!  
> aroused, hips grinding against each other  
> the leftovers of sexual need, bloody lips.  
> Alcohol infused love.

Enoshima Junko, the life of the party, who knows why. Perhaps because of her constant changes in interest and personalities; or her just being famous, drop dead gorgeous. Ikusaba Mukuro knows the exact reasons and cares no matter what, even if she is being dragged to the most popular club in the city that they live in. After getting their ID’s checked (this surprisingly was something they had to do, most clubs allowed people like Junko and other famous people of the celebrity world to come in.) Once stepping in, the soldier winces at the loud music that’s pounding through the club and sticks close to her sister; for once, their hands are held together, holding hands. There’s no real motive for this besides trying to not lose one another, both women sit down at the bar as most people are on the dance floor; dancing dirty, grinding hips and expressing sexual desires. Mukuro Ikusaba looks back and cringes, disgusting, her senses are more active than usual, Junko Enoshima snickers and chats with the bartender about the special drinks proceeding to order them for the two. Ikusaba mutters as her steel pupils track the bartender’s movements, she’s suddenly given a Moscow Mule that’s slid over to her, gloved left hand slowly wrapping around it the copper mug.  
  
What is the meaning? The point of drinking alcohol anyways? Is it to make changes to one’s personality? What is the motive, supposed ‘voice of reason’, behind this? Going out to a club that was popular and usually packed, the soldier merely wore a short sleeved jacket (wow, these exist) with a black shirt under; the finishing touches to her ‘distasteful outfit’, ripped midnight black jeans. (Her sister stated that the outfit was horrible, but it was good enough to fit with the club.) She sighs, bringing the cup to her lips and taking a few slips, then proceeding to set it gently down on the area before her. Moving her head to gaze at the left side, her sister, Enoshima-chan, enjoying her Old Fashioned while having some sort of phase similar to ‘the time of her life’. The fashionista turns her head to the right and laughs, so freely and quite genuine; confusion laces it’s self over the soldier’s face at the sound she just heard, it’s uncommon to hear laughter that isn’t catty. (Her outfit is beautiful, she’s always been beautiful to the older sister. She made every fashion style gorgeous without even putting effort. Black ripped shirt with neon colors and shorts, her regular spine crushing boots that make the soldier’s senses go wild whenever the boots are within her vision when they’re alone. It makes her shudder, in anticipation and ‘fear’. Masochism.) but whatever, the strawberry blonde shifts her entire body on the bar stool to gaze at her older sister with fondness (for once) in those baby blue eyes, opening her bubblegum pink lips and exhales. The candy perfume fills the eldest sister’s senses and it’s almost as if she’s fallen into a trance, crafted by alcohol and candy perfume; chapped lips twitch. Is it a need? Is it a desire? A want? Ikusaba feels her obsessive mindset setting in, she doesn’t want it, yet she yearns to be obsessive. The wolf wants to rip apart the lioness’ clothes and engrave her love upon that fair skin. But there are people around who have somehow not noticed her twin.  
  
The youngest sister giggles, sliding off the bar stool and standing behind the eldest, manicured nails dig into covered shoulders, her voice low and smoky, it’s the only thing that Mukuro Ikusaba focuses on. As if the blasting party music doesn’t exist, the eldest only focuses on her twin and every sweetly whispered word that is bound to end up with trouble, or teeth marking skin and low vocal moans that fade into the music, the swaying and dance, grinding and restraining from taking your beloved home to finish what the two of you started. The night is young, so it should be okay for this. Okay for whatever they’re going to do together.  
  
_“Let’s dance, Muku-nee-chan.” ___  
  
Ikusaba shivers, aching to hear that voice more and it’s as if her mind is going mad just by the pure volume of heat in Enoshima’s voice, nodding and also sliding off the bar stool. The twins hold hands once more, merely just to get their way through the thick crowd of people; finally, they’ve found a spot without the disturbance of other people nor being annoyed at any rate. The soldier rests her hands on the fashionista’s hips, who has her arms draped around the neck of the latter; leaning in and winking. The rushes of heat spiral out of control once they press their lips together and begin a small war of dominance; fingers digging into clothes and trying to leave marks, tongues sliding pass each other, even snaking around each other to get more, anything. The soldier allows the fashionista to explore her mouth, gloved hands gripping fabric tightly and a low growl escaping; how interesting it is to want, need, desire all of a sudden, not caring about the troubles. Desperate. Just wanting, needing, the burning need. Oh how does Ikusaba want to unbutton Enoshima’s shorts and worship her, (to feel her sister's hips rock into her hand as she thrusts them in and out at a quick pace )even if this is a public area; her senses have gone mad, feeling rough tugs on her hair, an array of light moans leave her. Ikusaba pulls away to breathe, licking her lips after and letting Enoshima recover. At this point, she can hear muttering of the people around them, that they just found the famous Junko Enoshima with someone who appeared to be a woman her age. Leaning back now, still watching her sister catch her breath; she’s so pretty, lipstick smudged and cheeks flushed, the eldest sister wants to lean in and mess the latter’s lipstick more yet she holds back the urge; the younger twin giggles after catching her breath, sliding her hands away from raven hair to have her arms drape once more.   
  
Shuffling a bit forward, Enoshima whispers to Ikusaba, perhaps it was just praise! Praise for acting how she should and following whims, needy and waiting; never betraying her own lust. Maybe praise for being a good pet, staying close and never straying away, accepting whatever she got, never staying what was on her mind. Sarcasm laces her sweet voice, Enoshima Junko, perfection with a cost.  
  
“You’ve gotten better at kissing, Muku.” It was praise! How joyful, the body of a ‘machine’ heats up at this even more than it’s temperature before; gripping the latter’s hips possessively to ensure a response.  
  
“T-Thank you... Junko-Chan... Can we leave now...? The crowd has noticed us.”  
  
With a quick wink and having hands drop to sides, they’re holding hands again as they quickly leave in a few seconds; it’s as if they never stayed in the club for more than three minutes when in reality, it was longer than expected. Arousal still remains in the soldier and fashionista, it’ll make itself more noticeable once they reach the apartment and start more fun from there. Maybe Mukuro would be treated like a dog, leash, collar; following orders without talking back and getting her body torn by aggressive swipes from manicured red talons! Or, even better, her backside exposed and being damaged by a singular boot, ah, the drool that would escape!


	2. Boring and Dull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The days slip by since the years, back in the house of pain, memories, childhood, and trauma, the eldest sister tends to sharpen her weapons as the younger sister watches in delight, wondering how clean it would cut through the skin of a human or animal.

The room is silent.  
Nothing, not even the low breathing or heartbeats can be heard. Not even steel scraping against a whetstone can be heard, a dagger being sharpened so it looks as pretty as the point of a snow-capped mountain. Who knows how long it has been since Junko Enoshima was here, with her sister, Mukuro Ikusaba, and parents. In the room where they shared a bed together, the soldier is by the door and focusing her attention on her hands, whetstone, and dagger. The fashionista stares at her sister while sitting on the bed, surprisingly, it’s clean, brings back so many memories; demonic and angelic.  
  
How the world worked was amazing, the despair of seeing it fall apart was certainly something she would crave for. She wonders about what she can do in order for her sister to hurt herself, from the whetstone or dagger. The rare, pained expression on Ikusaba’s face was one of Enoshima’s many reasons for saying despair, just to see it paint it’s grim self over her older sister’s face, even if it flashes for a few seconds and washes away in moments; it’s beautiful. To make your own sister despair, such honor. The fashionista keeps watching her sister, back to spacing out again and calculating what could happen if she were to do certain things, life is just a story, you get to write it yourself.  
  
For once, there is noise within the quiet room that the twins are in; the fashionista chuckles and exhales, wanting to analyze her sister over and over; baby blue meeting steel and her sugar sweet voice cuts the air, similar to a weapon slicing through skin.   
  
“Muku-nee-chan, are you almost done? We still have to get lunch and I’m starving!” She whines, portraying a childish persona and crying on the spot to get her sister’s attention; which she does get, because a queen, a princess gets whatever she wants and only has to ask for it once.   
  
Ikusaba puts her items away into various pockets in her pants, those weird 5+ pocket pants. But they do work well, being zipped up and all. Today, the soldier has worn another black shirt, but this time with a different design; a thorn pattern etched across the whole shirt, it was pretty, grey against black with black pants. The soldier walks over to the window, seeming to ignore her sister; the fashionista changes again, curious as a cat and scrambles off the bed; coming behind her sister.   
  
She forgot how pretty the sky looked, remembering those nights with her sister, the stories of her taking over the world and the latter nodding along and saying that she’ll be exceptional use in the future. Those things went out as planned, snaking her arms around the middle of her twin; Enoshima huffs and giggles, hearing a faint chuckle from Ikusaba at the physical contact.   
  
Enoshima breathes in, slowly, exhaling out slow; whispering to Ikusaba, for once, it’s filled with affection. Of course, this moment will slip away and be placed into the back of memories, but sometimes it is good to reflect on the past and see how far you’ve come.   
  
“As much as I hate you, I love you, big sis.”   
  
The world is quiet again.   
A faint whisper, the trembling.   
“I love you too.”   
  
The fashionista and soldier stay in that position for a while, the strawberry blonde slowly making her grip harder and the raven-haired leaning into the touch, a soft touch that both were not used to.

  



	3. Retreat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The supposed disappointment is back  
> Parents are gone and dead,  
> She’s back.  
> Feeling like a child, you rush to your sister and bury your head in her shoulder. Strong arms wrap around you and you sob, instantly, breaking into tears without saying a word.

Three years. Or four. Five? Six? Seven? Eight? Nine? Million? It had been so many years since Junko Enoshima saw her twin, Mukuro Ikusaba who ran off to join a military organization supposedly to help ‘protect’ her sister. The last contact they had together was the soon to be soldier holding her younger sister tightly while the latter sobbed, so angry and mad and trying to brew hate for her sister just because she was going to leave and didn’t ask about Junko’s own thoughts, her sister’s views on her leaving absolutely nothing and it drove the soon to be idolized, iconic fashionista, model, utter perfection anti-clockwise. Sitting at the dining table alone, she wonders if today is the day that her sister comes back. That could be the truth or she’s wasting her time longing for someone who is probably dead, but her disappointing sister promised that she wouldn’t die unless it was by Junko’s hands; that would be the only time she would accept death, even if it was a betrayal. What a loyal sister, to accept your own death that was caused by the hands of your own sister must mean something, something deep within those words and actions. She really, really just wants to see her sister again and even without seeing her for such a long period in time, in her bones, Enoshima knows that Ikusaba will come here once coming back from Russia.  
  
Then. Only then will she toss away hate, grudges, sadness, loneliness and hug her sister so tightly just to make sure she is real and feel like she’s at home again. A home was nice with her sister around because it was like having a human shield who would do anything for you and took everything as it was, listening and yet bring a disappointment to the whole family. Somehow, she can’t remember how she suddenly began viewing her sister lesser than herself, well lesser than usual. Maybe it was because her parents viewed their more successful child as something good out of the family while their ‘failure’ child being something out of the picture. Not like that made Mukuro Ikusaba, silent and commonly called a maggot by her sister at times; a mere child embracing it all, taking in all the negativity and staying the same. As well, she had the role of being the punching bag at school and for her sister, but she didn’t say anything, didn’t cry, she just kept being stone-faced through the pain. Enoshima found that weird, Ikusaba didn’t. It was a way or even cycle of life of being stone-faced. The fashionista is so lost in her own thoughts, spacing out, that she couldn’t even hear the creams and ‘screams’ of the front door being opened nor the knocks.  
  
How weird. It’s so weird to hear footsteps that aren’t her own, Enoshima Junko gets out of her chair in seconds and moves to see who’s entered the house without even being welcomed in, she does hope it isn’t one of those construction people or whatever the fuck they are called, she wants her sister /here/ in the house they’ve lived in for so long, not in some new house. Turning her body around to focus on who’s at the door, closing it. Slowly, the other woman turns to face the front.  
  
A tsunami of emotions, despair, regret, sadness, and happiness, a whole mixture of emotions hit her chest and her breath becomes shaky. Baby blue meets steel, and it’s the person she’s desired to see for all of the years that she was gone. Her beloved ‘Muku-nee-chan’, the other person who brought her realistic emotions, someone besides Yasuke Matsuda. Her sister is back and she can’t help it but allow tears to run down her face, messing up her makeup and showing how fragile she still is without her sister, just seeing her makes her a bit happier. Ikusaba is no longer ‘dead’ to Enoshima runs to her sister and buried her head into Ikusaba’s right shoulder, allows it all out without even moving her mouth to say words, just sobs and tears and the image of a heartbroken girl. But, her heart is being mended, slowly. Maybe by just seeing her sister again and getting used to her back in her life, Enoshima’s mental health will go up, or down.  
  
The soldier is in shock, by the reaction and seeing the fashionista waiting and instantly crumbling, relying on the eldest sister once more. Slowly, she rubs the younger twin’s back and feels... Huh... happy because she’s back at home, but then regret tugs at her heartstrings at her sister breaking down. The high pitched sobbing and her coat getting stained with tears, the mumbling and the fashionista leaning into the rubbing. (no one would see the tear stains on a black trench coat anyways.) After some time, the storm stops and it’s quiet, there’s soft sniffling from the younger twin as she loses herself in the warm embrace. It’s peaceful, for once in her chaotic life.  
  
It’s as if life decided to be nice and bring back her sister in one piece.


	4. Don't fret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who'd the problematic one  
> who stands  
> in the pouring rain?

Peaceful. The sounds of gentle tapping, rain. Something that Ikusaba Mukuro enjoyed a sleeping Enoshima Junko who seemed extremely happy in her rest, it’s Saturday and they’ve decided to stay at the school for today just to take a small break from plans for the killing game, learning about their classmates and weaknesses; the teachers, whatnot. Whatever information they needed for the future, the soldier would fall asleep as well but she’s would rather stay awake to make sure her sister will be safe in sleep than not. The strawberry blonde snoozes away quietly, raven-haired merely smiles and gums softly, a tune from their past that surely wasn’t forgotten at all; it hung with them whenever it seemed right, always coming back into memories.  
  
Enoshima sleeps on top of Ikusaba’s right arm, head directly under the latter’s chin and left arm draped over her chest; left leg set over the eldest sister’s right and right leg stuck out, luckily she was warm under the covers. Probably the most peaceful time for the two, the older sister smiles softly as she keeps humming and feels positive about this day. Today will be a good day, surely, wait no, tomorrow would be a good day. Definitely! This sleeping position does remind Ikusaba of when the twins slept together as children to keep each other warm and how safe they would feel with each other, she clears her throat, somehow feeling emotional due to all of those memories just being tossed at her. But, she appreciates every moment with her sister. Let it be those horrible ‘dark’ times of hurt or the moments where they act like actual twins and those who have not allowed their heart, mind, body to be infected with madness and insanity. What a chaotic lifestyle with ‘pure, good’ moments only happening here and there, so rare; cherished.  
  
All moments are cherished, even if Ikusaba feels like she’s going to die from the harm that Enoshima has inflicted all over her body, she still loves and cherished every moment. Even after death, she’ll probably still hold onto every memory that includes her sister. But, why? Why love someone who has hurt you for so long that it’s become normal and you’re used to it? Sometimes, you just accept life like that and can’t find a way out, so you don’t do anything and allow everything to just continue like how it goes, no change, normal. A normal horrid terrible ugly gross disgusting horrible trashy routine that’s become so usual, normal, for Mukuro Ikusaba. But even with her being the one damaged most of the time, she still finds a way to love Junko Enoshima besides what happens between the two. How weird.  
  
Then again, the word happiness is different for everyone. Allow that be a deceiving reality or untrue things, distorting life itself into a reality you can handle because reality is too harsh therefore you make your own reality with your own mind in order to feel at peace.

  



	5. Demise.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leading your machine by a leash, a woman of skill.  
> She'll murder whoever you say, what a gift to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poetry

By her hands,  
Countless lives have been lost.  
She is the one who executes the people of sin  
By your word,  
Slowly, you two will end the world.  
  
She's a machine that feeds off of your affection, your being  
She knows the narrative she is in and doesn't mind,  
Rubbing her body against yours and waiting for another order, murder, kill, anything, waiting for a reason to move: to do something she enjoys.  
Picking off anyone she supposes fits right,  
Some fools bite  
Others bark.  
  
Weeks of murder, she's labeled as a serial killer,   
your painkiller.  
Yours and only yours,  
She cures it all despite you hating her and being so tastelessly boring.  
  
The sky is vivid, hugging her cold body  
Sobbing as makeup runs down your face  
The world becomes dark as laughter leaves  
your lips at her death.  
  
You, Junko Enoshima count the holes within your heart.  
Wounds created by the two loved ones,  
Now, you have nothing but the corpse of your sister,  
resting with blood still oozing out from the bullet wounds.  
  
The world is no longer anything to you as gray rain pours and pours onto your form Even the world doesn't understand the sea, oceanic waves of anger, sadness, pity, despair stirring deep within your being as you mutter about how much your sister meant to you.  
  
She said she was going first  
You laughed it off  
It seems like she was right.  
  
You mutter,  
"Goodbye. Until we meet again, someday."  
Though you know,  
You'll never see your sister's disappointing form.  
You have to fake it, manicured nails comb sweetly through damp raven hair.


	6. Sodomising

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Playing the role of someone else while grinding hips, voices low and smoky, so needy for undivided attention to the body and the itch in fingers to feel skin under the light caressing. Heartbeat thundering and only listening to what you want to hear, tying your darling in chains and seeing her so 'afraid' drives pleasure up and down your spine that some drool spills out of your agape mouth, going unnoticed by you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im dying scoobs!

"I want to see how you work with power." Enoshima states as to Ikusaba, who's on her knees in a rather fancy outfit: something fit for the Royals before, similar to a prince's outfit, yet with the various shades of dull depressing colors such as black, gray and some parts white. She looks so 'happy' on her knees, mouth agape just by a little and oh how do the little spikes of arousal travel up and down her spine. A few times, the latter shifts to make sure she doesn't fall, the strawberry blonde thinks it's so wondrous to see her sister in this position: delight. Today will be a day of undivided attention, diving into unlimited pools of lust and the game of taunting and teasing.  
  
Magnificent, is it not? The younger twin bore an extremely thin midnight black robe with some fancy lingerie she sponsored a few days ago (she enjoys the gaze of worshipful eyes upon her body; how spine chilling to be watched with such intensity), time does not matter when she spends time with her boring, absolutely dreadful eldest twin. With this switch of power, they would have to act out, be different people; which, the duo didn’t mind doing. As long as it the reversed roles happened, it didn’t matter.  
  
Ikusaba would take the role of a obsessive guard, who killed the husband of some princess and proceeded to take her as his own; treating her like a prisoner. Enoshima, would of course be acting as that princess; yet, if the love was returned. The fashionista can already imagine it, maybe the soldier would slowly build up to her possessive and obsessive mindset, unleashing it and the robe and sexual clothing becoming nothing more than a pile as her body would be lined with hickeys, bite marks, signs of being in possession of someone so animalistic. Or maybe mark her aggressively, violate her mouth and face fuck her; treating her godlike body so horribly, so... sexually, that disgust becomes arousal and it’s a tear and rip war to get clothes off, breathes short and heavy, losing humanity in the sin of list; begging for more until hips break and stop working. What thrilling fantasies to come, what’s even better is that her boring twin will be lowering her voice to sound more like that man, she can’t wait.  
  
“Say, Muku-nee-chan, you know our safeword, right?” The fashionista tilts her head to the side, she wants to see if the latter remembers; honesty.  
  
“Yes, I did, Junko-chan. The safeword is tragedy.” Replies the soldier, one second later, as if she, too, is excited to lose herself in worshipping her sister while acting like someone else.  
  
“Now that we both remember the safeword...” With a feline smirk sliding onto her face, purring words out after thinking for a second; knowing the right buttons to press.  
  
“Muku-nee-chan~... You need to stay in character and so do I. Mess this up and I’ll play with you until your hips are bucking, then leave you on the edge.” She sticks out her tongue for childish effort, yet the words are a threat, as well a order tied in.  
  
The latter squirms, just thinking about that mere event makes herself lose a bit of humanity and the ache to ravage her sister slips in, her fingers twitch in anticipation for what’s soon to come; she nods, hoping that her nodding was enough. Steel eyes hold wild desire, pale lips quiver for a few seconds.  
  
Thus, the roleplay begins, the ‘guard’ on the floor gazing at the ‘princess’ with hunger burning in steel eyes, the main source of pleasure is so close that the ‘guard’ (that being Mukuro Ikusaba, taking the identity of Shibuwasa, the guard that had an extremely intense obsession over that made him murder many men, possibly including a husband or boyfriend, all of this drama for a mere princess, that being Yumeno, played by Junko Enoshima) could just extend her arms out and touch the silk, clothes, let herself go wild and let out growls made of possessiveness. To finally have the one thing a human desires for is a beautiful feeling, ‘Shibuwasa’ hums as she raises up; subconsciously licking her chapped lips at the sight of the prisoner, who trembles due to the air.  
  
Her voice is smooth as liquor, no hitched breath; deep with a slight growl towards the end, how breathtaking to hear such a voice coming from the usual boring older sister who’s voice sounded so ‘dead inside’ that it was impossible to think she was human.  
  
“My dearest Yumeno, do not be afraid of why thee is here. My world without you is a dull, monochrome life; with you in it.” Just for this, white gloves are slid over Shibuwasa’s hands as she extends them out; the princess, ‘Yumeno’, takes those hands and helps herself up, dazzling blue meeting stormy steel. The hunger within steel is bizarre, those chapped lips shimmer; it’s hard to not smash lipstick to bland and quickly turn this into a makeout session, probably a sex session afterwards knowing the heat and teasing would go too far.  
  
‘Yumeno’ whispers her word slowly, clearly trying to make something clear within the two. ‘Shibuwasa’s hands have slid to the hips of the ‘princess’, expressing need in a different way as the princess’s hands are set on padded shoulders.  
  
“You want to keep me all to yourself, right?” The heat in those words is unbearable, a moan leaves cherry red lips to get some sort of reaction. The guard’s hips twitch, and a moan slips into the air; the uniform is leaving her hot and bothered, wanting to strip and have the role reversal in that way.  
  
The response is a short, husky one.  
  
“Get on the ground, lay on your stomach.” A growl leaves her tongue, yet it appears to be the teasing hour with the princess who stays in the same position; delighted as she feels the gloves dig more into her skin.  
  
“Oh Shibuwasa~... what if I don’t do as you say~?” A smirk on that perfect face, the latter grits her teeth as she thinks of an appropriate answer for this situation and the feel. Ah, an excellent answer, yet she would have to follow through with it. Whatever, might as well say it to jab at ‘Yumeno’.  
  
“I’ll send your body into overdrive, my dear. Or would you like being teased and have my hand leave your core every time you’re close to climaxing? Beloved Yumeno, you seem to be in that sort of thing. The men you hooked up with were some sorts of sadists.” The guard grumbles, frantically looking around for a good wall or spot to throw the woman in her arms to, then finally ravage her. This position limited her, gloved hands slide from hips to half way of her thighs. How smooth, so unrealistic. Electricity, arousla at most.   
  
Come on,   
Let’s get flying,   
My darling!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s meant to be a cliff hanger by the way


	7. Cryptic.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The sounds of the busy city of Shibuya,  
> It’s annoying as she sinks into her bed  
> Staring up at a bland ‘sky’
> 
> Trying to find her purpose within her mind, her sister already gone to another fashion related event.  
> She slides the covers off.  
> Her thin body is just a flashback of various angry nights with Enoshima, Ikusaba doesn’t mind.  
> Out of breath, no need to state her opinion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> doppo fans be like: doppo!

Purpose. Ikusaba’s been thinking about that word. What does it _truly _mean? What is the point of having a purpose or being someone in this world? Will having a purpose really get you anywhere?__   
  
The bed is soft, laying on top of the covers.   
  
Starvation of emotion, feeling  
All of it went down the drain  
It’s all bullshit, utter crap.  
Just excuses and excuses.  
  
Another day of being a ‘mindless’ servant to someone who truthfully doesn’t appreciate you besides keep you alive. Most days, the treatment is terrible; being treated like dirt and nothing more, called a maggot because all you do is stare and listen to the harsh words with your hands at your sides; never saying a word, eyes displaying a monochrome world.  
  
No one will ever ask for her views  
With every passing day, it’s hard to find  
Something to live for besides her sister  
No one will ever save her  
She doesn’t care because she believes it is what she deserves.  
  
It’s drizzling in Shibuya, Ikusaba opens the window and sticks her head out to have some fresh air fill her lungs, the ability to ‘breathe’ comes back to her and she sighs deeply. The light drops of water on her head is relaxing, she doesn’t mind it. The loud honking of cars is annoying, so she pulls her head back and shuts the window.  
  
Her tattooed hand, (right hand), takes her phone from the desk by her bed and she gently applies pressure to one button to watch the device flicker on.   
  
It reads 11:00 AM.   
  
She sets it back down on the table.   
  
Mukuro falls back onto her bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuuuuuuah


	8. Checkmate!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “This is unfair! I’m not supposed to be losing!” Dramatically, Enoshima’s voice cuts through the silence after one of her chess pieces (the horse) was defeated by Ikusaba’s pawn.  
>   
> “Junko-Chan. You may know me and how I work, as your sister and tool, you aren’t losing. You’ve just overlooked my moves.” Amused and hiding it behind a stoic mask, Ikusaba adds a few more words.  
>   
> Yawning, Mukuro plays around with the white horse chess piece (that being Junko’s) that her pawn successfully took out.  
>   
> “Don’t tell me you’re jealous at this point because I’m ahead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuchap fans : checkmate !

  
  
The clock ticks every second, white noise. In the lit library, at a table, the duo sit and engage themselves in a game of chess. Ikusaba Mukuro and Enoshima Junko, known as the Despair Sisters; never is there a day where despair flows into the hopeful sea, polluting it. Usually, the acts of polluted hope happen during lunch or between classes, actions vary.  
  
But today is different. It is not another student feeling despair, being swallowed alive by self hate and drowning in misery; one of the sisters will submit to defeat and feel the same misery like their victims. The reason for changing plans is because it only takes so long for humanity’s whining to get boring, giving someone you love and trust that same misery will influence how it feels to have betrayal wreck your mind.  
  
On the black-and-white checkerboard, it’s a new world. Another area of life to conquer and flood with the overwhelming anguish that can make a grown man sob. Ikusaba has chosen the black pieces and her reason is simply that she is sin, Enoshima chose the white pieces for she is an angel, a living god on this boring and hopeless planet; the definition of perfection.  
  
“I’m going to win, Muku-nee! Like always, you’re going to lose!” The upbeat voice of the strawberry blonde flows through the air of the library, it’s lunch and surprisingly no one is there. (that may be due to the fact that seeing the two most ‘troubled’ students head to the library together and the older sister actually showing a bit of emotion was quite a sight, other students now steered clear of the library).  
  
The soldier arches one eyebrow, arranging all of her pieces to their respective places; complete with her mini task, she proceeds to crack her fingers and allowing emotion to bleed through the common stoic mask.  
  
“Are you sure about that, Junko-Chan?” Ikusaba tilts her head to the side, curiously watching Enoshima set up her pieces whilst snickering. The fashionista already began making plans of the moves that the soldier would make, she doesn’t even think that the latter would ever win at anything besides being disappointing!  
  
“Awh, is Muku-Nee doubting my skills?” Mocking shock, the fashionista looks up and meets the eyes of the latter in the expansive space; mouth agape and in the form of a ‘o’. She drops the act after, cackling loudly and amusement flows in.  
  
This is nothing but an incomprehensible daydream.  
  
The game begins, nothing else matters besides the game and the opponent who is across from you, either wearing a smirk or staring you down with the hints of disappointment.  
  
A single white pawn is moved to A-6. The opponent’s black pawn is moved to A-3. Silence fills the room and the noises from the duo, small grunts and hushed curses at making the wrong move; caught up in a mere childish game. Time flies by, 15 minutes wasted and Ikusaba takes her fifth prize from Enoshima, her lips curling up as she moves the white horse out of the way, taking it and setting it by her small collection of white pieces. Her second pawn is now in the spot of the white horse.  
  
Pieces slide across the board and knock down others that are viewed as ‘enemies’  
Your opponent leaves stoic for jester acts  
She smirks as you watch the scene unfold  
For the next word that slips from those chapped lips   
  
“Checkmate.”   
  
It was Junko’s first time seeing unadulterated amusement on Mukuro’s face and how shocked she was at the storm of new events. That damn wolf-like smile spread across her face, as if she’s were glad to win. After a few seconds, it faded away but the glint in the usual empty gaze was a bit unnerving, predatory behavior.   
  
“Junko-Chan. Class starts in ten minutes, I’ll clean up the chessboard.” Ikusaba did exactly what she stated, Enoshima was still shocked and didn’t even seem to move as she appeared to have a crisis over what just happened before her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bruh.


	9. Soft Heat.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punching bag was the role for today.  
> She was used to the pain and the marks.  
> Students at school never noticed  
> No one notices anything when you’re nothing in their eyes.  
> The night is young, smoke trails from your lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> misery loves you...  
> woah...

A night out  
With no one around  
Her type of paradise.  
  
School rules say no smoking, so the act of becoming relaxed and balanced must be performed in other areas. Heavy duty boots slide across the grass and soon onto the smooth concrete, Mukuro sits on a bench. Having a nearby park by the school was great, especially at night and on the days with the moon completely full, the moonlight shining down and giving the park some sort of angelic aura.  
  
To the main focus, she takes out a lighter and cigarette box from her breast pocket. Simple steps, light it and let the relaxation drag you in. Legs man-spread and showing no care as she slips the cigarette out of her mouth, exhaling smoke.  
  
The only reason for Ikusaba Mukuro to be smoking is the fact that Enoshima Junko unleashes her rage at the world or herself onto her eldest sister, sometimes the damage isn’t that bad, other times it’s extremely dangerous. One time, Junko nearly choked Mukuro to death, the soldier enjoyed it though just because she got to stare into those burning sky blue eyes, the emotion within them. How ‘arousing’, sad thing is, the soldier is still living to this very day.  
  
Life with the fashionista didn’t seem that hard to the public, nor did the public even view Ikusaba as anybody, just a nobody or a bodyguard. Gullible people. Oblivious. But the public not paparazzi mattered, just the fashionista she trailed behind.   
  
Another drag from her cigarette. Her system began to respond to the smoke, and she felt her lungs being wrapped by a warm blanket. Slow tiny draws from the cigarette made her feel delighted in a way, not in an sexual way, just basic human emotion. Ikusaba doesn’t find herself to be addicted to smoking, doing it once in a while to let out stress and just be alone, listening to the white noise and see life in a different perspective. Two harmful things sing their tune to her, the cigarettes and the lighter, and of course her sister.   
  
Ah. Maybe she is addicted to smoking, but she doesn’t care if she dies from lung cancer or anything. Her death would only affect Enoshima, both negatively and positively. The contrast of tears and erratic breathing. Hm.   
  
One final long drag, she blows the smoke into the air above her and merely tilts her head up, watching it linger and move slowly in the wind. She could make smoke rings, all of those skills people always seem to enjoy; but there’s no one to show these skills to.   
  
Tossing her three cigarettes into a trash can right by the bench, Ikusaba gets up and begins heading back, to their apartment, ‘their’ meaning the one Junko shares with her. The moonlight is nice, giving the soldier strength to face her sister once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whitewoods , good !


	10. Pernicious Evil!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ikusaba writes a story for Enoshima to cure boredom, and maybe fuel the executions for their fellow classmates in the future, the day of the Killing Game is soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I was busy reading fire emblem ot3’s when I should have been writing

Humming softly as led meets paper, good handwriting appearing on the white sheet as the desk light shines on the woman writing and the paper; humming coming from the woman, that being Mukuro ikusaba who’s been ignoring her sister, Junko Enoshima who wants a story written for her because she finds the older sister’s voice too boring to listen to.  
  
The plot of the story is about a girl who is in a terrible relationship with her friend, feeling used and constantly physically abused with details about how much it hurt. Maybe, with a chance of sheer luck, the fashionista won’t notice the details and how realistic it is. The soldier likes mystery novels, but this choice of writing a quick story seems the best.  
  
Ikusaba learned how to write massive amounts of text from the Event of trying to get into Fenrir, exposing her knowledge and interest in military activities, as well wanting to be a soldier. That is, to not protect her country, but to protect her sister. Simple. Classic! The older sister looking out for the younger sister no matter the situation, fictional and nonfictional.  
  
A crumpled ball of paper is thrown at Mukuro, who finally raises her head from staring at several pages of paper and writing ‘nonsense’.  
  
“Muku-nee-chan. You’ve been writing for the past hour, are you done with the story yet, corpse?” She scoffs, sitting up from the soldier’s bed as she was laying down; possibly sleeping/taking a nap.  
  
Ikusaba only nods as she sets her pencil down, suddenly feeling relaxed even with dread rising up in her, she’s never really voiced her opinion about their relationship and the damage it does to her, so she hopes she doesn’t get yelled at. Taking the ten papers and arranging them in order, she gets up from her seat at the desk; walking over to her sister and handing the fashionista the papers.  
  
Enoshima takes the papers with a sense of urgency. A witty response leaves her lips, those lips coated in bubblegum pink lipstick, no surprise. She points at the papers and she scowls.  
  
“Everyone’s entitled to act stupid once in a while, but you’re really abusing the privilege.”  
  
Ikusaba heads black to her seat and sits down, pushing the chair back with force and bangs her head on her desk.


End file.
